Promises We Made
by Rainack
Summary: What if Play With Fire had ended much differently? Can Melinda help, before it's too late? Nick/Greg established relationship. Character death. Ghost Whisperer crossover.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is slash, so if you don't like it, don't read it.

Well, I own neither Ghost Whisperer or CSI, though I wish I did. Man it must be nice to be Jerry Bruckhiemer (not sure I spelled that right, sorry.)!

This is going to be an angst filled piece, it may not seem like it now, but this story will have a happy ending. Promise. Please don't hurt me. :)

Please read and review. Each review inspires me. Yes, even the not so nice reviews.

Promises We Made

Chapter 1

Melinda Gordon knew the instant she slipped from her dream state into the vision. She'd had way too many visions over the years not to.

She'd just never had a vision like this before. For some reason, this ghost had chosen to share one of – his, her, no definitely his – his most intimate moments with her.

Trying to push aside the waves of pleasure, threatening to overwhelm her, as belonging to the man whose body she temporarily shared, Melinda tried to study the man moving above her. The sensations of two highly aroused male bodies rubbing together were a huge distraction that she needed to overcome if she was going to help this ghost.

Square jaw, deep brown eyes, short brown, nearly black hair, and a look of such deep devotion and love, Melinda was instantly reminded of the way her husband, Jim, looked at her when they made love.

Melinda's eyes snapped open, and an embarrassed blush crept over her. Even though the vision had been freely shared with her, Melinda still felt as if she'd been intruding.

Her gaze was immediately drawn to the man standing over her. Jim was still lost in dreamland beside her, but even if he had been awake, he wouldn't be able to see this man.

She quickly tried to lock an image of him in her mind. Five ten, at least, maybe one hundred fifty pounds, shaggy, brown hair that stood out in all directions, the tips highlighted blond. She couldn't tell his eye color in the room's dim light, but he wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a baby blue lab coat. On the right upper chest were the letters LVPD.

He said, "You've got to help him!" then vanished.

Grumbling under her breath about, "Damn cryptic ghosts," Melinda crawled out of bed and threw a robe around her shoulders.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nick Stokes clutched the picture to his chest and sobbed.

He'd been like this for the past five days, ever since the lab, and his world, had exploded. He'd barely eaten anything, and the few times he'd actually fallen asleep, he'd awoken screaming hysterically. His subconscious seemed determined to remind him of what he would _never_ be able to forget anyway.

_Archie had been helping Nick go though security footage for the case he was working on. It was mind dulling, boring work. Glancing across the hall, Nick watched his lover and husband, Greg Sanders, preparing a sample of DNA to run through the machine. A small smile crossed Nick's face as Greg swayed to his own internal beat._

_Suddenly there was a flash of light, quickly followed by deafening noise, and Greg was flying through the air, through the plate glass window. He landed in the hall, on his side._

_Momentarily stunned, Nick stood there, until his brain processed what he saw. His heart denying it._

_Then he was moving. Running as fast as he could and skidding the last few feet on his knees. Glass cut through the denim encasing his knees, then into his flesh, but Nick couldn't feel it._

_He could feel each spurt of arterial blood as it left Greg's neck as if it were his own._

_Nick's hands went to Greg's neck, applying pressure to the glass inflicted slash that had severed the younger man's carotid artery._

"_Greg!" Nick screamed. "Hang on!"_

_Blood was still pumping from the wound, despite the pressure Nick applied. He looked around desperately for something to apply that would help stem the flow. Nothing._

_Greg's eyelids fluttered, then opened. "Nicky?" he asked weakly._

"_I'm here, baby!" Nick sobbed._

_Greg's eye lids closed, and Nick could feel the blood flow lessening._

"_No! Stay with me!"_

_Then hands were roughly pulling Nick away, as paramedics set down their equipment bags by the young man._

_Nick fought the hands, desperate to stay at Greg's side. Nick thought someone was trying to talk to him, but he couldn't hear what they were saying._

_Leads from the portable defibrillator were placed on Greg's chest, showing what Nick had already feared. The young man's heart had stopped._

_Greg was shocked several times, with no success._

_He was pronounced dead on the scene a few minutes later._

_The hands finally released Nick, and he collapsed beside Greg's body, pulling it to his chest._

_Nick started screaming then._

_After a glance at Gil Grissom, the graveyard shift supervisor, one oft he paramedics pulled a full hypodermic from his bag and stabbed it into Nick's arm, before Nick could protest._

_Darkness finally descended on Nick._

Nick had been kept under observation at the hospital for two days, before being released to Grissom's care. Grissom had assured the doctor that Nick wouldn't be left alone.

Warrick Brown was there now, out in the livingroom, watching ESPN. He had tried to talk to Nick – hell, they'd all tried – but Nick refused to talk to any of them. If he talked, it would make it true. It couldn't be true! Greg couldn't be dead!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Please don't hurt me. I wanted to update days ago, but I got really sick with some kind of stomach bug. Anyway, here is Chapter 3, with more to follow tonight! Please review, I've loved reading all the reviews I've gotten!

Chapter 3

Greg sat down on the bed he had shared with Nick since the day they'd married three years previously.

He looked around the room, at the influences both men had made upon it. Photographs from vacations stuck haphazardly into the mirror frame, others taken more professionally and neatly framed hanging from the mocha colored walls. A painting, someone had given them at some point, hanging over the bed.

Greg's gaze wandered back to the framed photos. There was an empty hook. Wracking his brain, he tried to remember which picture had hung there. A moment later, it came to him. It was a photograph Nick had snapped of him on their honeymoon. Greg'd had his trademark cheesy grin on his face, and had struck a silly pose. Nick had absolutely loved that picture!

With a sigh, Greg turned back to the sobbing man on the bed.

"Nicky, please! Don't cry!" he rested his hand reassuringly on the older man's thigh.

Nick shuddered and pulled his legs up to his chest, cocooning the picture he still clutched. "I miss you, so much!" he whispered so low Greg had to strain to hear. "We were supposed to grow old together! You left!" it was accusing, and full of anguish, but still no more than a whisper.

"I'm here, now." Greg tried to put his hand on Nick's leg again.

"I don't think I can go on without you! My heart hurts too bad!" Nick rolled away from the chill that seemed to hover over his leg.

Now Greg could see that Nick's left hand was balled in a fist under the picture, against his heart.

"You were always so strong, Nicky! Don't give up, please!" Greg's pleas fell on deaf ears.

Nick's eyes were closed, and Greg thought the other man had finally drifted off to sleep. As Greg decided he needed to go try to gather energy to himself so he could find the woman who had seen him again, he heard Nick whisper one last thing, "You promised!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Melinda was sitting on the couch in her livingroom, laptop open on her crossed legs.

She had already used Granville's local search engine to search LVPD, but come up with nothing. She hadn't thought she'd find anything local, but wanted to be sure before expanding her search. Now she was on Google.

Nearly all the hits from Google came from the Las Vegas Police Department. One in particular caught her attention. It was a newspaper article about an explosion at the crime lab. The small summary she could read from the Google page mentioned major damaged and a fatality.

Clicking on the link, she was taken to the article, which included a picture of her ghost.

Arms snaked around her neck from behind, momentarily startling her. Then Jim was nuzzling her neck before saying muzzily, "Morning! New ghost?"

"Mmm..." she hummed, "Yeah. Get this, he's from Las Vegas." She tilted the laptop so Jim could see the picture.

Skimming the article, he said, "Greg Sanders. Got thrown through a plate glass window during an explosion at the lab. Piece of glass severed his carotid artery. Died at the scene. What a way to go!"

Kissing Melinda's cheek, Jim moved toward the kitchen.

"Yeah. Apparently, his boyfriend isn't taking it too well," Melinda called after him.

"That wasn't in the article," Jim called back. Melinda heard a cupboard open and close, as Jim got a coffee mug out.

"Impressions I got from the vision I had earlier, and what Greg said."

"Ah, so no clue who the boyfriend is?"

"Nope. Greg was only here long enough to give me the vision – bit of an unorthodox one, I might add – then say, "You have to help him," then he vanished. Energy thing, I guess. Hopefully he will come back soon, so I can find out the boyfriend's name."

"So, you're going to go to Vegas, then?" Jim was walking back in with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

"Well, Greg did come all this way to ask for my help. I've never had a ghost from this far out of town come to me. I have to help!" She just had to wait for Greg to appear to him again, so she could find out who the other man was.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The distance Greg had to travel to get from Nick to the woman who'd seen him was so great that just the initial contact had drained him. He had to build his energy back up, before he contacted her again. Plus, it just plain hurt to leave Nick. He was deathly afraid that in the time he was gone, Nick might do something seriously stupid.

It was now two days after he'd contacted her and he couldn't wait much longer. He hoped his energy replenished soon. He was very worried about Nick.

As Greg watched, Nick finally moved from his fetal position on the bed. His eyes were red and puffy – dark bags underneath them spoke of exhaustion, and he had lost several pounds. Greg came to the conclusion that Nick hadn't eaten anything for several days.

Setting the picture carefully on the bedside table, Nick turned and shuffled from the room. It broke Greg's heart to see the shell of a man that Nick had become. It shouldn't be like this. Nick had always been the strong one.

In the livingroom, Catherine sat reading a magazine. She looked up when Nick shuffled in. The smile died on her lips as she took in Nick's appearance.

"Nicky?"

Nick cringed, as if the nick name had been a physical blow. Greg had called him that, especially in the heat of passion. For anyone else to be allowed to use it seemed suddenly to be sacrilege, especially this woman.

"Don't call me that!" something inside Nick seemed to snap. The near catatonia of the past few days suddenly giving way to anger.

"Okay, Nick," Catherine said quietly. "Did you need anything?"

Nick cringed at this, too. The one thing he needed most in all the world he could no longer have.

"Get out!" it came out a scream. The anger was building up, and Nick couldn't control it, so he turned it on the most convenient outlet. In this case, Catherine. If Warrick or Grissom had been there, it would have been them. Same thing for Sara, or any of the others. The anger was amplified for Catherine, though.

Catherine set the magazine aside and stood. She took a hesitant step towards Nick.

"Get out!" it was quieter this time, but Nick still meant it. "Just leave me alone!"

"No, Nick!" Catherine had never thought Nick was the type who might try to commit suicide, but after his reaction to Greg's death, she didn't want to take the chance. The whole team had all taken shifts to be sure Nick was never alone.

Caught off guard, Catherine almost didn't duck fast enough, as Nick's fist suddenly shot out towards her face.

Even though it was a futile attempt, Greg threw himself in between Nick and Catherine. Nick's fist passed through Greg, and Nick didn't even flinch at the chill.

"It's all your fault!" Nick screamed at her. Then again, "It's all your fault!"

Nick had over reached, and was suddenly falling forward.

Catherine grabbed him, and now Nick was clinging to her, his body wracked by sobs.

"I know! God! I know! I'll live with the guilt for the rest of my life!" Catherine's own sobs were now joining Nick's. "I'm _so_ sorry! I never - _never_ meant for it to happen!"

Nick took a shuddery breath, and for some reason known only to him, decided to dig the barb in deeper.

"He promised he'd never leave me, and you took him from me!" Greg knew that someday, Nick would regret saying all those things to Catherine. Right now, he just wanted someone to be angry with. Because, let's face it, being pissed off at Fate just isn't as satisfying as being pissed off at a flesh and blood person.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Melinda was washing a sink full of dishes when Greg finally reappeared to her.

"Greg! I'm Melinda. I can help you cross over," she introduced herself.

"Look, I don't know how long I can keep up the energy to stay here. I need you to help me talk to Nick! He's falling apart without me, and I just can't let that happen," Greg kept fading in and out, as if he were straining to remain here.

"Nick? Your boyfriend, right?"

"Husband," Greg corrected, "Nick Stokes."

"Oh, I think he was mentioned as being one of your co-workers in the article about the explosion."

"Please, hurry!" unable to maintain the energy any longer, Greg vanished.

Judy looked up as another visitor walked through the crime lab's main entrance.

"Hi! Can I help you?" she automatically asked, taking in the woman's shoulder length, wavy hair, red sun dress, and pretty face.

"Um, yeah. Is Nick Stokes available?"

"I'm sorry, he's out on leave, not expected back for a couple more weeks."

"Oh. Well, I'm a friend of Greg's and I just found out what happened. I wanted to offer my condolences," the excuse sounded lame to her, but it seemed the receptionist bought it.

"Hang on. I'll call Nick's supervisor." Judy dialed Grissom's number and waited. "Dr. Grissom, there's a friend of Greg's here who'd like to talk to Nick."

On the other end of the line, Grissom thought for a moment. Perhaps having one of Greg's non-work friends to talk to might help Nick. "Send them over, Judy."

"Okay, Dr. Grissom." Judy hung up the phone and grabbed a post-it note to write directions on.

"Here you go, uh..."

"Melinda. Gordon," Melinda said, smiling as she accepted the note.

Several minutes later, Melinda was knocking on the door with the house number from the note Judy had given her.

An older gentleman, his face covered in a five o'clock shadow, opened the door. "Greg's friend?" he asked.

Melinda smiled and nodded, sticking out her hand. "I'm Melinda Gordon. Is Mr. Stokes home?"

"Gil Grissom," Grissom responded, shaking the offered hand. "Come in. I'll go get him."

Melinda moved into the livingroom, looking at the pictures on the walls as she went. She recognized Greg and Nick in pretty much all of them. There were a few that included other people, perhaps family, or co-workers.

Grissom returned a moment later, saying, "He'll be out in a minute."

"Thank you," Melinda responded, shooting a surreptitious glance at Greg, who stood staring wistfully at a picture on the mantle.

Grissom seemed to catch the look, because he glanced quickly at the mantle then back to Melinda contemplatively.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Nick finally shuffled into the livingroom.

Melinda was shocked by his appearance. She knew from her vision and the pictures she'd looked at just moments before that this man had once been vibrant and full of life. His eyes were dead and it seemed to take a great deal of effort for him to hold his head up, to even stand up.

Greg was now standing next to Nick, his arm around the older man's shoulder. Nick shivered, and Greg looked at Melinda imploringly.

"Please! Help him!"

Grissom cleared his throat nervously. "Um, if you don't mind, I'm going to go pick up a few groceries."

Nick didn't respond, just sank down onto the couch.

"We'll be fine," Melinda responded, sensing the older man's need to escape for a while.

Once Grissom had left, Melinda stepped over to Nick, proffering her hand. "I'm Melinda Gordon."

Nick looked at her dully, not raising his hand to hers.

Dropping her hand, Melinda took a seat in the recliner sitting perpendicular to the sofa.

"I knew all of Greg's friends. You're not one of them. What do you want?" Nick spoke softly.

"I have a special gift, Nick," Melinda started. "I can talk to spirits."

In the blink of an eye, Nick went from numb disinterest to an anger bordering on rage. He exploded off the couch, stalking towards Melinda, "Get out!"

Greg's face took on a panicked look, "No! You've got to get him to listen! I've got to talk to him!"

Nick was about to grab Melinda's arm, to bodily drag her out.

"Greg, a little help here!" Melinda said, her gaze going from Nick to Greg.

"Tell him - tell him I'm so sorry I broke my promise!"

"He's sorry he broke his promise!" Melinda blurted, ready to bolt if Nick continued to advance.

Nick stopped, shock crossing his face. "What did you say?" No one could have known about the promise Greg had made to him. It had been made in the privacy of their bedroom, one night after a particularly bad case.

"Greg promised he'd never leave you. You both feel that he broke his promise when the lab exploded."

Sinking back down onto the couch, Nick propped his elbows on his thighs and allowed his head to drop into his hands.

When he looked up again, his cheeks were wet with tears. "Is he really here?" he asked quietly.

Greg's heart was breaking at the anguish he was causing Nick. He reached over and cupped Nick's cheek with his hand. Nick shivered, but leaned into Greg's touch, as he seemed to sense the younger man's presence.

"Greg!" Nick whispered, closing his eyes.

"Tell him he's the best thing that ever happened to me," Greg said, looking from Nick to Melinda.

Melinda repeated Greg's words.

"He never meant to leave you like that. He's going to cross over, but before he does, he wants you to make him a promise," Melinda watched Nick seem to shrink before her.

"Make him promise me he'll try to live his life and be happy," Greg's worry for Nick was evident on his face.

When Melinda repeated Greg's words, Nick smiled sadly. "That's my Greg! Always thinking of me." Then mournfully, "I don't know if I can make that promise, Greggo."

"Greg is insisting that you have to!"

With a sigh, Nick finally said, "Fine! I promise!"

Greg smiled, then leaned in and kissed Nick softly on the lips.

Nick seemed to feel it, for his eyes closed, and he sighed.

Looking at Melinda one last time, Greg said, "Tell him I'll always love him!" then he turned, took a step forward, and faded from sight.

"He's gone," Melinda spoke quietly. "He said to tell you he'll always love you!"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

And so, Nick did his best to keep his promise to Greg.

After another week off, Nick went back to work. His friends noticed a difference in him, though. Interactions were forced, almost robotic in nature, and he no longer smiled.

Grissom wanted Nick to go to counseling, but he was afraid that if he made it a contingency for Nick returning to work, that Nick would just quit. Nick's diligence at his job wasn't suffering, so as long as that continued, Grissom would rather have Nick at work, where his friends could keep an eye on him, than out doing who knew what.

As months passed, Nick grew tired of the constant questions about how he was doing, and finally seemed to realize he was acting like a robot. Forcing himself to be more human, Nick finally allowed himself a small smile one day. He knew he'd never be fully human again. How can you be fully human when half of your heart has been torn from your chest?

Days, weeks, months, and finally years trudged by. Nick would work, then go home to a house full of painful memories, where he would sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor in the guest room. He just couldn't bring himself to sleep in the bed they'd shared. Even now, nearly three years later. Then he'd get up and do it all over again.

Until one night that would change everything.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Catherine had handed Warrick two assignment slips. "Here, you two duke it out. I don't have time." Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked away.

"All right!" Nick had jokingly raised his fists. He'd found that joking with Warrick was the only way to keep the black man off his case. A moment later, he lowered his hands, "Nah, man. I'd hurt you! Let's flip a coin." Pulling a coin from his pocket, Nick said, "Call it."

"Heads," Warrick chose, watching the coin spin in the air before landing on Nick's upraised palm.

"Damn!" Nick muttered, as Warrick handed him the trash run slip.

After a fifteen minute drive, he arrived at the site.

The responding officer showed Nick what he'd found, then retreated to his squad car, where he proceeded to get sick.

Pulling evidence markers from his kit, Nick set the first one down by the "body" – little more than a pile of what looked like intestines laying in a small puddle of blood in the middle of the deserted street.

After snapping a few pictures of the pile, Nick turned in place, looking for any more evidence. Skid marks on the street, and a cigarette butt caught his attention. Widening his search radius, Nick spotted a clear plastic bag with something sealed in it a few yards farther on, near a fire hydrant.

Looking back at the officer, he saw the man was still trying to calm his rioting stomach, near the squad car.

Shrugging, Nick moved toward the bag.

He squatted in front of it, took a picture, then picked up the bag, eying it curiously. He didn't sense the person behind him until it was too late.

Nick vaguely remembered coming to in the back of an SUV. He'd maneuvered around to dole out a vicious kick when the back door opened, only to have the guy grab him from between the back seats, and hold something over his nose and mouth until he passed out again.

Now, he'd tried to sit up, only to hit his head hard enough to see stars. His brain began to register that he was in a small space and there was a green glow emanating from beside him.

Reaching for the glowing object, he found it was a glow stick. He held it out, trying to gauge the size and composition of the space he was in. The plexiglass container – if he held the stick close to the sides of the container, he could see dirt all around him – was a few inches longer and wider than he was, and the top was maybe a foot above him.

Besides some extra glow sticks, he found his gun – he checked the clip to see it still held a full load – and a small tape recorder.

Pressing play on the tape, Nick listened.

"Hi, CSI guy! Guess you're wondering why you're here. That's easy. You followed the evidence. You're going to die here, so, breathe fast, breathe slow, stick your gun in your mouth and pull the trigger!"

When the tape ended, Nick clicked it off and threw it down by his feet. Then he lost it. Pushing against the lid, hitting the sides, kicking with all his might, and screaming until his throat was raw.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

When Grissom first got the call that Nick had disappeared, he'd initially thought that Nick had finally had enough and just walked away.

There were almost no signs of struggle. A stray white fiber on Nick's vest that the younger man could have picked up anywhere. It was almost as if Nick had just set his camera down, taken off his vest, and walked away without looking back.

Then the scent dogs had followed Nick's trail into the alley, to a large dry spot indicative of a large vehicle having been parked there. Grissom knew Nick's personal truck was still parked in the lab parking lot, as he'd seen it when he'd gotten into his department Denali with Catherine right after they'd gotten the call about Nick.

Now Grissom was yelling at David Hodges, who was practically tackling a delivery man at the reception desk. "Hodges, what are you doing!"

The trace technician finally managed to wrestle the package from the delivery man and panted out, "Getting this away from him before he destroys any trace on it. It's about Nick!"

Hodges set the package on the reception counter, looking from it to Grissom.

Pulling a pair of gloves from his pocket, Grissom put them on with a sharp snap, then gingerly picked up the package.

It was a padded envelope of the variety used for sending compact discs or other small media. There was no return address, but it had a type written mailing label addressed to the crime lab. Under the address, it read re: Stokes.

Carrying the package to the layout room, Grissom vaguely registered the fact that he was being followed by most of the graveyard shift staff.

"You've all got work to do! Get to it!" he snapped. More softly, before the crowd could completely dissipate, he said, "I'll call you if I get any new leads from this."

Several minutes later, after carefully cutting the envelope open and scanning over the two objects it contained – a cassette tape and a USB drive – with the ALS, everyone had gathered again as Grissom prepared to play the tape.

They quickly discovered the tape was a bust, so Grissom took the USB drive to the computer and plugged it in.

A ransom demand flashed across the screen, then the words, "You can only watch."

Grissom did what no one else seemed able to do. He moved the mouse over the word watch, and clicked. The screen changed to a web cam feed showing Nick in what appeared to be a box of some kind.

Looking closely, Grissom could see that the box appeared to be surrounded by dirt. Moving his attention to Nick, Grissom's heart fell. The younger man was still alive, but there was a look of utter defeat on his face. Grissom feared that Nick wouldn't be surviving this. With no one of real import to the younger man waiting for him, Grissom feared Nick had finally found his reason to stop trying.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I really don't want to give anything away, but I need to make this warning. There is a suicide in this chapter. If you don't like, don't read.

Chapter 10

Nick was startled from the stupor he'd sunk into, when the light came on the first time. He could feel the warmth it put off seeping into his feet through the soles of his work boots, and knew it would become uncomfortably warm.

On top of the light, the breeze he'd been getting through the small vent to his right had stopped. Panic tried to overtake him at the thought that his air supply had been cut off. Sweat began to bead in his hair and dripped from his face.

A couple minutes later, the light went off and he could feel the puff of cool air from the vent return. Turning to the vent, he sighed in relief. It was short lived, though, as the light came back on again.

As realization began to dawn on him, a new wave of panic overcame Nick. He knew he was consuming what precious little air he had, but he couldn't stop the panicked hyperventilating. He passed out with the thought that if the light continued to be turned on, thus turning the fan off, he wouldn't have air for long.

As a coping mechanism, Nick's oxygen starved brain tried to take him back to a happier time.

_Nick kicked the front door closed as soon as they were both through. Shoes were toed off, then Nick was pushing Greg up against the wall, his hands finding their way up under Greg's shirt. Greg moaned as Nick's mouth found his._

_It had been a long shift, and a rough case for Nick._

_Pulling away, Greg trailed fiery kisses down Nick's jaw line, down his neck. Pulling Nick's T-shirt aside enough to nip at Nick's shoulder. Pressing his tall frame against Nick's, Greg initiated another kiss._

_This one was slow, tender. After all their time together, Greg knew that what Nick needed after this rough case was slow, tender love making. The kind that reassures and reaffirms._

_Pulling away again, Greg took Nick's hand, twining their fingers together, and gently pulled Nick towards their bedroom._

_They slowly undressed each other, still kissing, then lay down on the bed._

_Greg was laying on his back, his right hand tracing lazy circles over his husband's chest. Nick was laying on his right side, head propped up on his hand. His left hand was resting on Greg's stomach. His eyes had taken on a faraway look._

"_Greg?" Nick's voice sounded small and scared, and nearly broke Greg's heart._

_Reaching up to cup Nick's cheek with his hand, Greg drew Nick's gaze to his. "What's wrong, Nicky?"_

"_Don't ever leave me. Okay?"_

"_I'll never leave you! I promise!" Greg replied, allowing his hand to move to the back of Nick's neck, gently pulling the older man to him for another slow, sensual kiss._

Nick swam up from unconsciousness thinking about broken promises. A tear rolled down from the corner of his eye. He didn't truly hold Greg at fault for breaking his promise. What had happened, it had been one of those things Greg had no control over. Fate!

He just hoped Greg wouldn't hold it against him when he broke his promise, as he whispered, "Greg, I don't think I'm going to be able to keep my promise, either. Please forgive me!"

Using his feet to maneuver the tape recorder back up where he could reach it, Nick flipped the tape over and rewound it so he would have a blank side to work with.

After taking a moment to think about what he wanted to say, Nick pressed record.

"My name is Nick Stokes. If this tape is ever found, please turn it in to the Las Vegas Police Department. There will probably be some kind of reward."

He took a breath and tried to keep his voice from trembling as he went on.

"Mom, Cisco. I don't know if you'll even be willing to listen to this, but I love you both. I'm sorry I couldn't be the son you thought I should be, but I was happy with the life I lived. Warrick, I'm sorry I haven't been the best friend you deserved the last couple years. Thanks for sticking by me."

Another pause, this one accompanied by a sob.

"Catherine. I'm sorry for all the awful things I said to you! I know you didn't mean it, and I know your own guilt far outweighs my anger.

"Sara. Don't let any more time slip by. It can all end so suddenly. I thought I had forever with Greg. Don't let Grissom slip away. Make him yours, and treat _every_ day as if it's your last!"

One more breath.

"Grissom. I'm sorry I disappointed you. I've only ever wanted to make you proud of me, but the last few years, I just couldn't care anymore about what people thought of me, even you.

"One more thing, Griss, if Melinda Gordon ever contacts you, listen to what she has to say. She's ligit."

One last sob.

"Don't worry about me, guys. I'm going home to Greg!"

Clicking off the recorder, Nick tossed it back by his feet. Taking his gun from where it lay beside him, Nick checked the load one more time.

Squeezing his eyes shut, tears still leaking through, Nick positioned his gun under his chin, angling it so the bullet's trajectory would be instantly fatal.

With a whispered, "I'm coming, Greg," he pulled the trigger.

At the crime lab, Warrick Brown flinched at the explosion of gun powder igniting. He wanted to cry out in anger, but to tell the truth, he really wasn't surprised at what Nick had done. Tears streaming down his face, he whispered, "I hope you've found peace, man!" before slowly standing to take Grissom the news.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Nick?" Melinda looked at the man standing next to her bed.

"Yeah, hi." he replied nervously, one hand going to the back of his neck.

"What happened?"

He told her about his kidnaping, and being buried alive, then said, "I'm scared. I want to cross over. I've seen Greg, in the light, he's waiting for me, but..."

"What?"

"I broke my promise. I committed suicide in that coffin. What if I cross and I'm not allowed to stay with Greg because I killed myself?"

"I don't know the answer to that, but here's what I think. I think that if you can see Greg waiting for you, then if you cross, you'll be allowed to stay with him. I don't think the powers that be are so cruel as to dangle what you want before you so you'll cross over, only to yank it away from you again."

A relieved look crossed Nick's face, as he looked longingly at something Melinda couldn't see. An easy smile spreading across his rugged features.

"One more thing, please contact Gil Grissom. Tell him I'm sorry. Also tell him I'm buried in a nursery. I couldn't get the name, but I could see it was a plant nursery."

"Okay," Melinda said softly, as she watched Nick step toward what only he could see, and fade away.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"Greg!" Nick pulled the younger man to him, not even bothering to look and see if they were in heaven or hell, or what the place even looked like.

"Nicky!" Greg's face lit up in a grin, as he allowed Nick to pull him into a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry!" Nick sobbed.

"What for?"

"I - I couldn't keep my promise, either."

Pulling away, Greg looked into Nick's eyes before responding, "It's okay. We have forever to get it right. When we're ready, we can be reborn," he went on to explain things to Nick as he took his hand and pulled him towards their home.

Nick finally took the time to look around. The sun was just rising in the east, a glorious sunrise the likes of which he'd never seen. A small house sat on a cliff, overlooking the ocean.

"Everyone has their own version of heaven, Nicky. Soul mates get to combine theirs. Welcome home!"

A/N: I'm not particularly happy with this chapter. I really don't know why. If anybody has any ideas how I might make it better, let me know. Anyway, this was the last chapter of the story. I hope you enjoyed it, and as always, please push that little button down below.


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